


Like Real People Do

by alls_fair_in_pride_and_prejudice



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Inspired by a Hozier Song, Memory Loss, Other, Pre-Canon, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25114189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alls_fair_in_pride_and_prejudice/pseuds/alls_fair_in_pride_and_prejudice
Summary: The Apprentice has a vision in a dream, and wishes they could enjoy a life without burden with Asra.
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Like Real People Do

**Author's Note:**

> I responded to a fic request on Tumblr a while ago to write a song fic about Asra and the Apprentice using Hozier's Like Real People Do, and only just now decided to post it on here. It's short but full of feelings, enjoy!

_I had a thought dear, however scary  
About that night, the bugs and the dirt  
Why were you digging? What did you bury?  
Before those hands pulled me from the earth?_

I wake in the middle of the night from a terrible nightmare. Asra was crying, nearly screaming, and he was surrounded by dirt and ash, frantically digging with bloody fingers. I reach out for him, clinging to his skin in fear. I can’t breathe. I feel his pain, the panic, like I’ve lost my own heart. One hand clutches his, and the other clutches my chest, to remind myself that I’m still alive.  
Asra pulls my trembling form close to him in a comforting embrace. I swear our hearts are beating in time, each erratic and afraid. When I press my cheek to his, I can’t tell if the wetness I find is from his tears or mine. Am I the only one shaking? Or is he trembling too?  
I tell him about the nightmare. There’s a tremble in his lip and a pain in his eyes as he listens, before he pulls me into an even more crushing embrace.  
“It was just a dream,” he whispers, almost as if he is trying to reassure himself.

_I will not ask you where you came from.  
I will not ask, and neither should you._

I don’t know how he found me. I don’t know who I am, besides that I am his, and he is mine.  
I know he is my Master, and he’s one of the few people I know, so maybe it’s wrong to feel this way, but as I drift off, I can’t stop thinking of his lips. I would love to be someone else, for the two of us to be regular people that can love without reservations.  
If only I could love him without these complications, kiss him like a normal person with a life and history of their own.

_I knew that look, dear: eyes always seeking  
Was there in someone that dug long ago  
So I will not ask you why you were creeping  
In some sad way, I already know_

The dream does not leave my mind for weeks. It felt more powerful than a normal nightmare. I swear I saw into his past. Asra tells me that I’m very good with magic, a natural. Maybe this is part of that, some sort of vision.  
I don’t like asking him about his past, and I know I shouldn’t. Early in our relationship, I could see it in his eyes – the loss. He looks like he is grieving and rejoicing at the same time, and I can never make sense of it. He’s always looking at me like he’s waiting for something, searching for something in me that I don’t know if I have.  
I finally work up the courage to bring up the dream, and with every word, every sentence, I can feel the pain growing in my head and heart, blocking out all else.  
He’s trying to distract me, I can tell. He doesn’t want to talk about this, but I have to know. I think I do know, but he won’t listen. He won’t answer me, but then the look in his eyes is all the confirmation I need.  
The headache becomes too much. I can’t, I can’t move. I fall to the floor. I’m screaming.  
So much pain. Is the pain his or mine? He loved me, he loves me, and he lost me. I can’t bear it. I can’t bear it. This body isn’t mine. I’m just a ghost somehow given form.  
The pain is too much. I’m dying again.

_Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips  
We should just kiss like real people do_

Asra’s touch soothes some of the pain, and I look to find his violet eyes filled with so much love and overflowing with tears that drip onto my face. He brushes his fingers through my hair and cups my face so tenderly. His voice is dripping with equal parts love and suffering. “I’m so sorry to do this again, my love.”  
I try to form words, to ask what’s going on, but all that come out are sobs.  
“You won’t remember this; you’ll be okay soon.”  
He presses his forehead to mine, and the pain subsides, my thoughts clearing, and then blurring again. I’m drifting away, with only Asra’s touch anchoring me in reality.  
I lean forward those few extra inches, pushing my lips to his, wishing even more desperately that our lives were different, that I could be kissing him in different circumstances. Asra returns the kiss with fervor, caressing my face and holding me close to his warm chest, pressing our synchronized hearts ever closer.  
“I wish I didn’t have to do this.” Asra sobs, “but I’ll give you a pleasant dream while you recover.”  
He gives me another kiss, and the world fades away.  
I dream of running around and getting into trouble with a dear friend. We breathlessly press our lips together in an alleyway, just two kids that love each other, drunk on our wild youth. He tastes like honey, sweet and pure.

I wake in the middle of the night. I’m not sure what I was dreaming about, and I feel like I’m forgetting something else, too, but that’s not too uncommon for me. I turn and see Asra’s sleeping face in the bed beside me, and waves of love bubble inside me. Everything is okay as long as we’re together. Even if we can’t ever be a regular couple, I’m happy to lay by his side in the night.


End file.
